Chase's Secret
by KettleKornKueen
Summary: When Chase's best friend April May gets sick secrets from his past get dug up and old wounds get reopened... chapters one through three edited. Excludes recent EPs. Now rated T.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hello! All medical facts are crap and don't actually add up to a real diseases it's all part of my imagination so please bear with me. I'm a stupid teen that doesn't know any medical facts besides how to treat a headache.

The room was loud, really loud. Techno music blasted through the speakers at full volume; the shot glasses lined up in front of Chase sparkled off the disco ball, which was the great thing about the bar. (It was no doubt a bar not a club, but the owner Jean couldn't help but add her own special touches.) Chase turned and looked at his best friend April-May. She was downing her seventh tequila shot and was two behind Chase. She was rambling on about how she was going to get out of New Jersey someday and fly to the other coast to become a supermodel, actress, or Playboy Bunny—anything to make her famous.

Chase chewed on his straw and fiddled with the wrapper, curling it and uncurling it over and over again. He desperately wanted to beg April-May to stay, but it wasn't worth the breath. She has been complaining about where ever she was standing since he'd known her. Her motto was "Anywhere but here," usually she ended up staying and complaining some more.

Chase knew he was the only thing holding her back and tried to feel bad, but really he needed April-May she kept him on his toes and kept him sane; especially after his father's death. He was getting depressed and wanted her to shut up. So he leaned over and kissed her. They weren't dating and she didn't take the kiss as a come on. She seemed to know exactly what Chase was doing and she loved him way too much to prematurely hurt him so she smiled and pulled him on the dance floor; zipping her lips— for now at least.

April-May laughed as she watched Robbie Chase dance, he was a really great dancer, but tonight when he was drunk; he was a horrible dancer. He was like the really overly confident geeky kid at the prom, but she loved that about him. He was her Robbie, he was her heart. The thing that made them best friends was that they knew each other so well. They knew all the secrets they had (and most of the dark ones they shared.) They had dated in high school, in fact they were high school sweethearts (and middle school sweetheart too.) But eventually the fire died out and they were left with a really awesome friendship around the time collage started.

They were both extremely glad that when they broke up April-May had said they should still be friends that they actually were, it was cool. It was kind of like they were dating only without the physical part.

But all of a sudden April-May felt woozy, and then she fell down and hit the floor like a sack of bricks. Her head bounced once and red blood gushed from the wound.

Chase looked at his best friend in shock as she started to seize, despite the fact that he was a doctor he was way too wasted to do much beside scream "Call 911" and hold his shirt to her head to try and stop the blood.

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It was six in the morning and Chase was in the waiting room of the ER. April-May had been in surgery for three hours now and the doctors wouldn't tell him anything because she wasn't family, so much for professional courtesy.

He sat with his head in hands staring at the floor, praying. God, it had been years since he prayed, but April-May was worth ever word—she was his heart.

Suddenly, a wooden cane appeared in his line of vision. Chase looked up to find House standing there looking tired and grumpy, his normal days old beard he wore looked too gruff—even for him, "Go home," he grumbled leaning heavily on his cane.

Chase was so surprised that he had come in early for him the only thought he could muster up was, "What?"

"Your girlfriend is fine she's in recovery. She had a blood clot they took care of it," House sighed collapsing in the chair next to Chase. "Go home. Take the day off," House reached in his blazer's pocket and took out the pill bottle that was forever present and popped two pills.

"I'm fine," Chase said getting up, "I have cloths in my locker I'm going to go take a shower," he stumbled forward and leaned on the wall for support. Taking a deep breath he looked back at House, "and then I'll meet you in the office,"

"You're not coming into work today, you're drunk and soon that will fade into a hangover, if you killed someone because your Dad (that you hated) died imagine how you'll be with your girlfriend sick and a hangover to top it all off," House used logical reasoning, as rude as he was he was right Chase had to admit, but that didn't stop him from glaring and telling him she wasn't his girlfriend.

"Why are you here, House?" he asked. He was so not in the mood for House's games. All he really wanted was to go see April-May, make sure she was okay, and then go home to crawl into his bed and sleep for the next three years.

"Dr. McCormick called; you listed April-May as your next of kin. He was worried you were going to have a mental break, you've been staring at the floor praying for the past three hours," House stated rubbing his eyes.

Chase wondered how Dr. McCormick could tell he had been praying. Had his lips been moving? _Wait did he say _four_ hours?_ Chase thought. Was it really that long? It only felt like a few minutes, perhaps he dozed off. "Well, I'm fine you don't have to baby sit me. I'm a big boy now," He said sarcastically. Right at that moment House's pager went off and he stood up and starting limping towards recovery, "What's going on?" Chase demanded.

"Your girlfriend is dieing," House called over his shoulder.

Chase wanted to follow him and help but he knew in his current state he would hurt more than he could help. So instead he sunk back into his seat, put his head in his hands and prayed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: All medical "facts" are in fact (hehe) wrong and totally made up. I mean I could by some miracle have some things right but I really doubt that, so yeah, don't diagnose yourself on what I say because really the existent of my medical knowledge his how to treat a headache…

"Okay, people," House said limping in to the differential room, "differential on why some one would want to date Chase." He threw April-May's file on the table, and walked to the white board.

"She is _not _my girlfriend," Chase protested coming in behind House; fixing the cuff on his backup work shirt that he kept in his locker.

After House heroically fled Chase to save April-May from cardiac arrest and Chase poured about four gallons of coffee down his throat House agreed to let him work that day. Plus he needed all the brain power he could get—April-May's simple blood clot turned into a puzzle when she fell into cardiac arrest. She just had the clot removed the problem should have vanished. This intrigued House, so when Chase asked him to take the case it really didn't take much begging at all.

"I think it's the hair," House concluded studying Chase. "What do you guys think?" House turned and looked at the non-blonde population of his team. Chase tilted his head to the side to glare at House. This made his hair fall in front of his eyes. "Oh yeah, it's the hair," House confirmed.

Cameron and Forman were studying the patent's file and ignoring House's juvenile banter. "Drugs, cocaine could cause the blood clot and seizure. And the antibiotics they gave her during surgery could cause the cardiac arrest if the coke she was using was contaminated," Forman said jumping into the differential.

"No, she's clean," Chase shot Forman down. He had a look in his eye that he didn't quite believe what he was saying. House saw it but didn't say anything.

"So, she used to take drugs… It could have weakened her immune system. And when she hit her head a bacteria could have gotten in and caused the clot and seizure. The antibiotics she was given were fighting off the bacteria during surgery and when she was taken off them she went into cardiac arrest," Cameron chimed in believing the best in people, like always. Although, she did realize that contaminated cocaine and lie was much more likely.

"Or if it is a bacterium it could be environmental," Forman added.

"How many types of bacteria could do that?" House asked throwing his ball in the air and then catching it with his cane.

"Dozens," Cameron answered.

"And presuming your theory is correct how many can live off a bar floor,"

"Maybe… two dozen,"

"Test for them; take the lover boy back to the bar and get samples. And while your at it do a tox screen incase Forman is right," House ordered. Cameron and Chase left to see to their taskes leaving Forman and House.

"What should I do?" Forman asked, always eager to please.

"Get your coat. We have to break into Chase's apartment," House said getting up.

"What?" Forman asked astounded.

"She has been crashing at his place the last couple of months. I couldn't get Chase to help me because that would be no fun and Cameron would chicken out. So that leaves me and you," House threw Forman the ball and started towards the door. Forman rolled his eyes and switched his lab coat for his leather jacket.

"We can take my car," Forman offered knowing the rude and brilliant doctor was right.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: HI! All medical facts are crap and don't actually add up to a real disease it's all part of my imagination so please bear with me. I'm a stupid teen that doesn't know any medical facts besides how to treat a headache...

"Do you love her?" The question shocked Chase and almost caused him to swerve off the road. But, as the initial shock wore off he knew perfectly well that he should have expected these words to escape Cameron's lips.

He pondered the best answer to this question that would slightly change the subject of him and his fellow Australian mate but not enough that Cameron would find it suspicious.

"Well, yeah. Don't you love your best friend?" Chase inquired.

"Yeah… but I mean more than that. More than 'just friends,'" She tore her eyes away from the New Jersey scenery to study his sharp features and facile expressions as she asked the question. She was trying to pick up a clue to the answer off his body langue—something she was particularly good at.

Chase, knowing this, tried not no move a inch or flutter an eyelash as he replied, "Did once," almost solemnly, yet not in a way, very Chase-ish.

Cameron got the hint that he didn't want to talk about it. That was fine with her, for now at least, she'll get him to talk to her eventually. After all she was Cameron and he was, of course, Chase. Chase—who really wanted to talk about his past and all the lies and plot twists that went with it. Yet, he couldn't, not with any one but April-May who knew the painful plot twists just as much if not more than he did. Chase was thinking all of this as they pulled up to Jean's Bar. He was pretty sure it had a name but everyone just called it "Jean's Bar" the proper name having been ditched long ago—along with most of the health codes.

"We're here," Chase said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster.

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"We're here," Forman said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. The thought of him breaking into a co-workers apartment did not sit well with him. Actually, any breaking in did not sit well with him after his arrest. He sighed watching his boss pulling out his gold card and taking way to much pleasure in jimmying the lock.

Both the snobby employer and convict employee gasped as the door to their only wombat friend's door swung open with ease revealing a not too shabby three bedroom apartment. It wasn't the floor to ceiling bookshelf packed with book fighting for space (all of them written in middle to early-modern English House noted) or the huge flat screen TV with surround sound speakers that could knock your socks off; it wasn't the four guitars, two basses, piano, keyboard, or set of drums that left them gapping mouthed open in the doorway. It was the hundreds of framed photographs that took up every inch of free wall space.

There were too many to count. Some abstracted, some of them portraits, a few of Chase shaking hands with extremely prominent members of the medical field. House noticed in these Chase's smile was phony; he looked as if he really didn't want to be where he was; like he wanted to be in one the other photos where he was smiling real and warm: a young teen-age looking Chase laying on a couch with an unrecognizable girl laying on him a guitar splayed over her stomach both their hands on the frets and over the sound hole as if they could both play at the same time, you'd this by their grins they could. Or in one where it was Chase wearing a surf suit as he was walking out of the ocean; his hair wet and being whipped around by the Australian wind.

But, that wasn't the only interesting thing about Chase's apartment as House and Forman soon found out. In his cupboards there must have been at least three dozen jars of vegemite and absolutely no junk food in sight. One of his bedrooms has been converted into a dark room. There were some pictures hanging to dry. They were of him and that same girl that he was on the couch with, in the picture they were at some club only it didn't have quite that same club vibe—besides the huge disco ball in the background. She was grinning into the camera holding up a shot glass, a hand rolled cigarette popping out of her mouth Chase was looking at her—not the camera and smiling an even bigger smile (if that was possible.) He was slightly biting his lip and they both had that sorta-almost-kinda tipsy look to them.

"Wow, I didn't know he was into photography," House said the words slipping accidentally out of his mouth.

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"Wow, I didn't know he was into photography," Cameron said the words accidentally slipping out of her mouth.

She gazed up at the abstract pictures hanging all over the club. (No bar—wait club. She still didn't know every one insisted that it was a bar, but then there was that ridiculously large disco ball…) There must have been a hundred; they were all of different parts of the club/bar and a few people, ("Okay," Cameron decided inwardly, "from now on it's a 'blub,'") parts that would have been normally over looked, but the way Chase had brought them out in his pictures was well… _incredible_ was the only word that popped into Cameron's mind that correctly suited the said incredible photos.

"Yeah, their fabulous aren't they?" replied the bartender, a girl Cameron had forgotten the name of. She was only briefly chatting with her while Chase was going to talk to some other girl named Jean to see if it was okay to get samples, but she still felt a sense of over empowering guilt for forgetting her name in such a small period of time.

"Breathtaking," Cameron agreed. She was about to say something more but just then Chase walked back in trailing an older woman who had the presents of a young devoted fireball. She reminded Cameron of Cuddy.

"So, are you or are not with April-May? Because that was one hot kiss last night," teased the bartender. Chase immediately blushed like a school girl and ran a hand through that gorgeous hair.

"It wasn't that type of kiss, Zoë" He said walking behind the bar to pour himself a drink.

"Hey, you don't work here anymore, no free drinks!" The elder woman said swatting at his hand. He pulled out his wallet and slapped a five dollar bill on the counter. Her harshness didn't seem to faze him in the slightest bit.

"Then what kind of kiss was it," Interrogated the Zoë, "I mean you guys have been dating since middle school when are you finally gonna realize that she's the one and marry the damn girl,"

Chase sighed and took a swig of water wishing it was a slightly stronger clear drink before simply saying, "We're not dating now,"

The girl who had yelled at Chase before turned her attention way from the sticky spot on the counter she was wiping up with her saliva-covered thumb back to Chase, "Take whatever samples you want just don't call the health code people. Got it?" she clarified sternly.

"Got it," Chase replied, "I'm not a squeal, thanks Jean," He bent over and planted a kiss on her cheek, "You're the best,"

"I always was," She sauntered away, again, acting younger than her age. Chase giggle a little and shook his head at the floor while Zoë rolled her eyes and stuck Chase's money in the cash register.

"Come on," Chase motioned to the floor, talking to Cameron, "We should get samples,"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Okay so I'm going to leave out as much medicine as possible from now on, because I'm awful at that. And I was wondering if anyone knows how vegemite is actually stored… I tried to look it up but I couldn't find anything. (You will figure out what I'm talking about in a minute.) (My Google skills suck.) Sorry for the long, long hiatus I was dealing with my own crap and writing a different story called I don't know why, I just do (It's a House/Chase slash so if you don't like it deal... this one probably wont be.) I would like to thank all the people that still checked and commented on this story and asked for more otherwise I would have just let this go… Alright, anyway, I re-read the last three chapters and would like to apologize for the crap-y spelling/grammar… shesh. I'm really embarrassed about that… oh my god I can actually feel myself blush right now eek! So, anyway I promise I'll be better. Okay, I will stop babbling now…

Chase and Cameron were in the lab testing the samples. So far they were all negative.

"So, when did you work in the… bar?" Cameron asked clicking a few button on the computer to pull up the test results: negative.

"Just after I moved here," Chase answered his eyes and attention focused on the screen in front of him.

"When was that?" Cameron inquired trying to casually force as much information out of him as possible.

"Right after med school, I did my internship and residency here," He took a swig of coffee. "What's with all the questions?"

Cameron shrugged and looked innocent, "Just curious."

Chase raised his eyebrows and grabbed a sample bag as he changed the subject off himself, "Where do you think House and Forman are?"

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House was in Chase's bedroom inspecting the underside of his bed. Forman walked in from looking under the sink for bacteria or toxins. He sighed seeing what House was doing. "House, this is pointless. If April-May got sick here, Chase would be too. Let's go,"

"Nope, different people react differently to different things. It may just be a matter of time before Chase starts showing symptoms," House pulled out his pen light and did a sweep of the carpet looking for bugs, dust bunnies, and Chase's diary. (House had a sneaking suspicion that Chase kept one. And he was very interested in reading it, being the "wanting to know everything about everything" type that he was and to him, Chase was the hardest mystery to crack.)

Forman sighed and went into the kitchen to check under the sink (again).

"So…," House trailed off limping into the kitchen after checking the nightstand table and back of Chase's closet, "Why do you think there is so much vegemite?"

"I don't care and I don't want to know," Forman asked still agitated with House.

"How much do you want to bet that he gets it sent here from someone back in England," House taunted in a singsong voice that meant he knew way too much.

"He's Australian. What did you find?" He asked getting up from the floor and throwing House a look, knowing that knowing way too much voice.

In the past months Forman and Chase had become friends. Not terribly close ones, but close enough that he felt a very, very faint need to defend him against House.

"Letter," House said brightly holding up his prize, "in the nightstand from… Marissa." He read off the letter, "She sends him a year's supply every year."

"So?" Forman sighed leaning up against the sink and putting his hands on the counter to support him. Just then a black, white, and gray striped cat jumped onto the counter and nipped at Forman's index finger. He yelped and snatched his hand away from the cat as a small drop of blood accumulated around the bitten area, but there wasn't even enough to trickle down his finger. The cat jumped down and pranced away.

House inspected the cut, "Grow up, wimp." He tossed Forman a bandage and some antiseptic from the first aid kit that was stored above the sink. "The point is that it has been here for a few weeks already judging by the supply, "He motioned to the open cabinet, "and it had to make the trip across the Pacific. Airplanes are bumpy. Cap get lose on the trip bacteria grows inside here April-May eats some and bam, it's like a time bomb."

Forman adjusted the bandage and flexed his finger a few times then reached over and opened the refrigerator. Sure enough there was a half-eaten jar perched on the shelf of the door.

"Let's get this to the lab,"

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"I'm not sure where they are," Cameron answered loading yet another sample into the sample tester.

Just then Forman burst through the door carrying a plastic air-tight bag with a jar of some sort. "Test this," he ordered handing the bag off to Cameron.

"A jar of… vegemite?" She questioned frowning at the label then giving him a "what the hell" look.

Chase's face mirrored Cameron's. "Where did you get that?" he asked recognizing the label.

"We broke into your apartment," House answered for Forman walking in with the potato chips he stole from Wilson on the way to the lab. (Thus the reason he was late.)

Chase gapped at House and then sternly inquired what his face was asking, "What the hell?!"

Forman looked down and sighed. House shrugged and dove his hand into the bag, "We needed to check for toxins and bacteria," he said his mouth full.

"You could have asked me. I would have checked," Chase was flabbergasted, although he was quite aware that he should have expected something like this from his prying boss.

(Cameron secretly wished House had asked her and not Forman she was puzzled by Chase just as much as House was.)

House shrugged again, "You were busy," he said simply.

Chase shot House a dirty look and was about to go off on a personal privacy rant when the computer beeped signally the vegemite test results were in.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hi! Okay, so here is chapter five. I felt bad for leaving a cliff hanger. (Okay, I'll admit it was a crappy one… but hey it was one.) So, I decided to upload this chapter now, I was going to wait until tomorrow… but considering it is now 12:10 AM here and sleep is not something that is going to come soon and/or easily I mind as well do this now. And I'm, _also_, so fing bored out of my mind right now that if I don't do something constructive, I will have do something not constructive. And that is a very, very, _very _bad thing when it comes to me and my imaginative brain… very bad. Trust me. So, here you are! (Also, without the disclaimer and A/N this is exactly 1,000 words. Seriously count them! It's so cool!)

"Negative," sighed Cameron when the test results came it.

Forman and Chase looked disapprovingly at the computer like it was the computer's fault.

"So… where does that leave us?" House asked as he scooped his pinky finger into the jar of vegemite and gave it a tentative lick. He made a sour face and wiped the rest off on the rim of the jar.

Chase rolled his eyes. The rest of the team stayed silent, thinking.

"Come on, come people… anything?"

Still silent.

House sighed, "I'm going to think," he stated and walked off to his office.

The rest of the team, still silently, raised their eyebrows at each other in a "well then" sorta way.

Forman shrugged and asked Cameron and Chase out to lunch to brain storm over burgers, Cameron accepted, but Chase decided to take his break with April-May.

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She was propped up in bed flipping through a fashion magazine nervously and biting her nails. Three of them were already bitten down to bloody nothings, and a fourth she was working on looked dangerously close.

"Hey love," Chase greeted April-May. He ditched the bag he was carrying containing two Greek salads on the foot of the bed. He sat down on the edge and enveloped her in bear hug nuzzling his face in her neck. She buried her head in his shoulder. Chase pulled away after a quick kiss, but remained holding her hands. "How are you?" It was a stupid question. He knew this, and so did she. He immediately kicked himself for this.

She cocked her head to the side to give him a disappointed look, "I don't know; why don't you tell me?"

"We… still aren't sure quite yet what is causing the problems, but we have some theories we're working on," Chase reassured her in his best reassuring doctor tone. He gave her a toothy smile and another kiss. "Don't worry, I will take _excellent _care of you, okay?"

"I'm calling you on your bull shit. You have absolutely no idea what's wrong with me, and if you don't know you can't take _excellent_ care of me," She took her hands back and crossed them over her chest defensively, giving Chase the evil eye.

Chase sighed and looked at her intently, "You're right, but we're trying, okay?"

She nodded getting what she wanted. April-May was not the type to pussy foot around. She liked answers; she liked truth; she liked raw facts; she was a hardcore anti-lying, anti-fibbing, pro-truth activist; she had a bumper sticker on her car that read, "Don't lie to kids." It was an awful and awesome quality. Her craving for truth and justice is what made her a great journalist and, also, got her into her fair share of trouble…

(…That was how it all started with the drugs. She, also, always had this thirst, this need for adventure. So, when they were seventeen and she was head editor of the school newspaper and decided that the daily columns of gossip and study skills that filled the pages weren't edgy enough she did something about it.

She wanted a hard news story. One that everybody could either relate to, or be fascinated by: going undercover inside the high school world of drugs and gambling. There was a not-so-secret, secret poker game that went on in the storage area under the gym. It used to be a bomb shelter for students and staff, but now it just sheltered old fax machines from the garbage and pissed off kids with Daddy's money to spend from cops and parents above ground.

Her piece was suppose to be about exposing the un-exposable, something every one knew about. Just peeling it down to the basics, the _truth_, what _really _went on "underneath" twice a week.

Chase was going to help. He knew a few guys that hung out down there. Not real big shots, but big enough to convince the ring leader's they were cool. But once they were down there, with the drugs and high-risk, high-adrenaline poker games, they didn't want to leave. They tried it all: smack, coke, pot, crystal, every wine cooler flavor you can think of, and every prescription under the sun, and that is just the tip of the ice burg. Most kids came from families of doctors, kids that used to hang out at work with the nurses and tag along on rounds with their parents. The pharmacist got to know them, got to _trust _them, and soon swiping their parent's script pad was the only tricky task. Chase wasn't part of this part, although he knew what hospitals and pharmacies were the easiest to get away with "My dad wanted me to pick up this prescription of Ritalin for him," and which ones to avoid.

They both got hooked. On the excitement and drugs, they were seduced by the danger of it all, but it all came to a crashing halt one night.)

Chase tried to stop thinking about the past as he reached for the salads at the end of the bed. He set them on her lap, kicked of his shoes and pulled off his lab coat. Slipping into her bed and under the covers she snuggled up tight against Chase. He smelled faintly of the cologne she gave him for his birthday (precisely for this reason), his Irish Spring soap, and the yummy sent of boy she loved. They cracked open their salads and ate in silence for a few minutes.

It was April-May who broke the silence, "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like…? You know, if we hadn't totally screwed everything up?"

Chase looked at April-May with big sad eyes, "Yeah, I wonder. You too?"

She nodded, sighed, and stabbed a leaf of lettuce.

Chase was about to say something more when Cameron burst in, "Chase—" She paused noticing how close April-May and Chase were… _sitting. _But she shook off her shock, "—we have a problem."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: I thought of a better cliff hanger so…

There was a problem was some earlier blood work that the lab missed because they mixed up a few tests. April-May needed to be rushed into surgery. Fast.

"Robbie, what the hell is going on?" April-May asked after Cameron rambled on using very big doctor-ly words that April-May didn't understand.

Chase took a breath, "Some one screwed up, you're dieing. You need to get to an OR now." He had already started to pull down the safety bars around her and help her into a gurney Cameron had gotten.

"Am I going to be okay?" April-May asked with eyes so big that they were almost completely taking over her face.

"I don't know,"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

(Okay I'll stop being mean and put up the next chapter.)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hey! Okay so the last chapter was very dinky and so I filled this up with a much Chase as possible. (Smiles.) Also, I used a few Australian slang words, but I'm not sure I used them right. So if there are any Aussies out there, please tell me. There is also a little dictionary at the bottom if you scroll all the way down if you're not familiar with them…

"The surgery was a success, the surgeons were able to fix the problem and save her liver," Chase reported.

"So…," House limped back and forth in front of his white board without his cane, rolling his ball in his hands, "What causes liver problems along with these other symptoms?" He gestured toward the white board where he just finished writing April-May's symptoms.

This was, once again, met with silence.

"Come on, come on, come on people. Anything!" House encouraged.

The team spat out a few mediocre ideas and they were immediately shot down by House.

Cameron sighed, "I know her tox screen we negative, but—"

"No," Chase insisted softly, "she's clean." He once again had that look in his eye that he didn't really believe what he was saying.

House decided that sparing his feelings we not the right thing to do in this particular moment so he looked Chase in the eye and said with a cold edgy tone asked, "Would you be willing to bet her life on that?"

Chase looked down and fiddled with his pen thinking.

_Would you be willing to bet her life on that? _

Would he? He knew that she had done pot a few times after they quit. But that was it. She would have told him if she was doing anything else. She knew better than anyone how drugs messed everything up. He knew too. That's why he never did drugs after they were in rehab. They promised no more heavy drug use. Chase always stuck by that, he felt strange even taking over the counter (well now behind the counter) allergy medicine and cough syrup. She stood by that too. Besides those few times to unwind. She _is _clean.

Right?

Chase sighed.

"I'll go ask,"

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"Are you clean?" Chase decided to take the April-May approach to asking the question: straight and to the point.

He stood before her with his hands jammed all the way in his pockets and a hard serious look on his face.

"We quit the hard stuff, drongo1."

"Are you doing anything else?"

"Why? What are you guys thinking?" She was staring to get worried. (Cue House: "Everybody lies,")

"Look, if you are doing something I promise it'll be apples2, but I really need to know. Because if you're not then… we have no idea what wrong,"

"Besides being blotto3 every night with you… no," She gave him a look like the very thought of any drugs make her sick.

"Okay," Chase said curtly.

"What? You don't believe _me_?" She asked flabbergasted.

"No, I do…," Chase sighed and looked up searing for an answer in the white repetitive tile pattern, "…It's just… I know you did pot a few times after…" He looked down.

"Aw, come one baby, that's not hard or dangerous…," She pulled Chase down onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him.

_Yes it is! _Chase thought _that's how it all started! _But he didn't want to upset her right now. Besides she was grown-up she can take care of herself.

Right?

Chase was the one to pull away first, "Anything else? Even if it seems harmless…,"

"No, that was it, I _promise_," April-May looked him straight in the eye and with such truth in her eyes that it could even turn House into a believer.

Chase nodded, "Alright, I'll be by later to check on you," He stood and walked to the door.

"Are you apples2? You seem a bit gone4" She called after him squinting her eyes from across the room to get a better look. "You have your psycho face on,"

Chase sighed, there was just way too much going on right now. "I'm fine; I'm just… tired is all. Get some rest," He ordered stepping out of the room before she could protest that, that was a sucky answer.

The thing was he was a bit gone4. All this stuff was running through his head going 500 mph:

_My best friend is sick._

_I didn't trust her. _

_I trusted an uncaring son of a bitch before my best friend. _

_She still thinks pot is okay. _

_I didn't even try and talk her out of that nonsense. _

_She isn't clean—not for real, anyway. _

_She's going back… she's going back to all that crap in high school! _

_What if I can't save her? _

_What if I can't save her? _

_What if I can't save her?_

_What if I can't save her? _

_What if I can't save her?_

_What if I can't save her?_

_What if I can't save her?_

Chase stopped at the other end of the hall way as the office to take a break. He leaned up against the wall and took five deep breaths trying to calm himself down. It wasn't working. She was still screwed even if they figure out what wrong with her. And they might not. She is too adventurous, too crazy, and too nonchalant when it comes to her health and safety. God knows how many times Chase had to rush her to the hospital or get her to throw up when she downed too many pills with too many shots back in high school and even a few times in college. But he thought all that was over when she got her diploma and a steady writing job that let her be adventurous without screwing up her brain in the process; he hoped it was all over. Going back to that would suck.

He couldn't always be there to save her, and he needed her to be here with him, to be saved and safe. He needed her to survive, she kept him sane. She kept him from taking the big dive off the deep end. Without her he'd be back in Australia taking over his dad's practice and attending boring, fancy award parties accompanied by his step mother and his bratty half siblings every weekend instead of having fun. She was the reason he was standing here. She was the reason he was happy 80 percent of the time as apposed to sad like he was before he met her.

And now she's screwing everything up…

Chase took another deep breath, composed himself and walked back to the office.

1Drongo means: stupid person; fool.

2 Apples means: okay; alright.

3 Blotto means: very drunk.

4 A bit gone means: mad; silly; insane.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hello, okay so I really, really don't want to become one of those authors that hold their stories hostage until they get a certain amount of reviews, but seriously the lack of reviews is starting to upset me. If you guys hate the direction this is going in or want it to move in a particular direction I need/want to know your opinions. So, I'm taking a risk here and am probably going to sound pathetic, but… please, _**PLEASE **_review! Also, I had no idea how to not make this chapter cheesy because the majority of it is a flashback so just bear with me. And now to the next chapter…

Cameron and Chase were back in the lab testing for Lupus because they didn't have any other ideas. House was in his office thinking and Forman was doing his clinic duty. (There was a bet between them that involved Wilson, a patient, a Popsicle stick, and a cotton ball… you don't want to know.)

"ANA is negative," announced Chase as he put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Not surprisingly," Cameron commented. She saw the opportunity to prod Chase for a few answers and jumped all over it, "So… what's the deal between you and April-May?"

Chase lifted his head and wiggled his eyebrows at her, "Jealous?" He knew full well that April-May's life was at steak and that he shouldn't be joking around with Cameron, but if he didn't distract himself with this he'd start to lose it again.

Cameron gave him a 'yeah, right' look, "I'm just curious is all. I mean you _said _you weren't going out… but then when I walked in on you two…,"

"We're not going out," Chase said definitively as he grabbed a vile of April-May's blood to rerun some more test. (Just incase of false negatives.)

"But you use to," Cameron continued. Chase shrugged in response. "How long were you guys together?"

"A while," Chase replied. He decided to stick to the bare minimum for answers.

"Why did you break up?" She asked overly perky. _God, _Chase thought, _are we back in high school?_

"We were better as friends than as lovers," And that was the truth. They cheated on each other all the time. They always knew about one another's affairs, but didn't mention anything until one night Chase called them both on their bull and that's when April-May proposed the idea of friendship.

It was Cameron's turn to wiggle her eyebrows, "You mean there were problems…,"

"That's none of your business and no," Chase interrupted.

"Did you go to school together?" Cameron pressed forward.

"Yes," Chase was getting agitated; he wanted to be distracted from his friend's condition, but not like this.

"Is that where you met? In school?"

"No. Can you hand me some more blood?"

"Sure. Then where _did _you guys meet?"

Chase paused thinking about the day April-May moved in next door…

_Chase was upstairs in his bedroom watching out the window. There was a new family moving in next door. A mom, a dad, a fifteen year old son, and a twelve year old daughter—the same age as Chase. The perfect family. A whole hell of a lot more perfect than Chase's at that time. It seemed as if anyone would be. _

"_Fine! Just go then! I don't need you!" Chase heard his mom yelling at his father down stairs._

"_I will!" Chase's father screamed. _

_Then a door opened and slammed shut. Chase shook at the sound. But, that wasn't anything new. Rowan (Chase's dad) had been walking out on (but always coming back to) Elizabeth (Chase's mom) ever since he could remember._

_The refrigerator door was opened by Elizabeth so hard it swung hit the cabinet that it was next to. (There was a good-sized dent in it already… and that was the fourth door that Rowan had to have installed. They kept breaking.)_

"_Mom's getting blotto, again," sighed Marissa (Chase's fourteen year old sister) from her position lounging on Chase's bed. She was in there because Chase's room was the best to spy on the neighbors in. It was on the corner and had windows covering the two outer walls. (It was the only room in the house like that.)It had a good view of two of the four surrounding houses. And, much to Marissa liking, her sixteen year old crush, Blake. He liked to practice Australian Rules football in front of Chase's window in the summer afternoons. Chase was playing look-out for Marissa until he came. She was waiting impatiently, flipping through a magazine. _

"_Shut up!" Chase commanded throwing a throw pillow he was sitting on at her. _

"_What? It's the truth, you know it," shrugged Marissa calmly. She took the 'whatever' approach to dealing with their mom's alcoholism. Chase was more sensitive. _

_He growled at his sister and turned his attention back to the new family. _

"_Do you they're going to be nice? Or like the Miller's?" Chase wondered about the new family aloud. (The Miller's were this awful family that lived there before and would call the cops all the time on the Chase's pet dog Alex for no good reason.)_

"_Robbie, are you even watching out for Blake?" Chase didn't respond. Marissa took this as a 'no' and threw the pillow back at Chase barking, "Stop spying on the new neighbors and watch for Blake!"_

_Chase sighed and shifted his focus on the house that sat behind theirs. No sign of Blake. "Not yet," he reported. _

_Just then Elizabeth burst through the door and wrapped her arms around Marissa. "Oh baby," she wailed, "it'll all be okay. I promise he'll be back!" _

"_Ugh," Marissa tried to wiggle out of her mother's grasp, "Mum, you reek!" She was right. Elizabeth smelled of an overly strong Bloody Mary and cigarettes. _

_Chase walked over to his mother and lightly rested a hand on her back, "Mum, come on let's get you into bed." He was always much better at dealing with his mother than Marissa was._

_Elizabeth changed her attention from her daughter to her son and enveloped _him_ in a hug instead. He accepted the hug and patted her hair when she began to sob. _

_She was already about four inches taller than Chase and was wearing three inch heels so maneuvering her into bed was a tricky task, but after about three years experience Chase had it down to a science and had her tucked away in no time. _

_When he came back he shot Marissa a dirty look, but she didn't notice on account of Blake jogging around his yard—shirtless— for his warm up and was sweating buckets already. Chase was sick of his family's crap and did the only thing he knew to do when he felt as if he was going to explode._

_He walked to the other end of the hall and into a guest bedroom. There was a large tree that branched between his house and the former Miller's home. It was strong and sturdy enough for him to climb all the way to the top (about two stories above his three story house). And take a break from his dysfunctional family; actually, he spent most of his free time up here. Either trying to wade his way through the beautifully wound lines of Shakespeare or pondering the meaning behind the many tales the bible had to offer. _

_He had put a wooden board as a make shift platform in the crack between two branches and stole a lawn chair from his backyard to sit on. _

_He climbed up with ease, but when he arrived there he encountered a problem. There was an incredibly pretty girl perched in his chair, frowning at his bible that he left up there from yesterday. _

"_Hi," Chase greeted the girl shyly. _

_She looked up and smiled, which made Chase blush, "Hello,"_

"_Um… what are you doing here?" Chase asked gingerly wanting the girl to go away so he could have his much deserved alone time. _

_She shrugged, "Reading."_

"_Anything interesting?" Chase asked trying to make polite conversation before he politely asked the girl to buzz off._

"_Nope," she said breezily tossing Chase's bible on the ground, "it's crap. I don't believe in god,"_

_Chase was floored. Everyone in his community were strong Catholics, in fact, their church was made up of the entire community except one Jewish family that mostly kept to themselves. "Why not?" _

_She shrugged again, "I just don't believe in _him_." She said 'him' with incredible distaste; like the word made her want to vomit._

_Chase stood in shock. He had no idea how some one could just simply not believe in god. He was raised as a Catholic and, apart from the Jewish family; he hadn't met anyone that wasn't. "Then, what _do_ you believe in?"_

_She smiled, "Truth, I believe in truth, and…" she picked up the copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream _he had also left up there last night, "Shakespeare… you?" _

_Chase was floored, once again, meeting another person his age that read Shakespeare? That was crazy! He figured he was the only one in the whole world did. But he liked it all the same. _

_He took a deep breath before answering:_

"_I believe in God and Shakespeare," _

"Chase?" Cameron asked Chase waking him out if his daydream, "How did you guys meet?"

"Um… she used to live next door,"


End file.
